Drakken's Memoir
by Vege-Chan
Summary: Dr. Drakken decides to "blog" about his experiences following the end of the Kim Possible series. Kim Possible/Freakazoid! Crossover
1. The Proposal

[**Note:** After much deliberation I've decided to "blog" about my experiences so that I could refer to them for future study. This will also benefit me later if my memory, for any reason should fail me.

I would not have so readily given in to the idea of writing my memoir if not for the encouragement of my wife Shego and that of my good friend Roland, both of whom I am eternally grateful to.]

_Not long after my initial exposure to the Hypo-Pollinator Mutagen, the effects of the mutation began to progress. It wasn't just my neck the vines grew from… They began to emerge along the length of my spine as well._

Not only that, but the vines had become ultrasensitive as though they had literally become an extension of my central nervous system. I could feel everything they touched down to the slightest puff of breath. They were ten times stronger than that of the ordinary sense of touch. Even the most subtle of movements were agonizing. I couldn't bear to move let alone allow anyone, not even Shego, to lay a hand on me.

Worst of all I was unable to keep them from growing. They spread everywhere, curling and twisting, eagerly stretching their spidery roots across every available surface. Cutting them off was out of the question. I tried that once and with dire consequences. I blacked out from the pain after taking a pair of gardening sheers to the mass of flowered tendrils draped from my neck.

In such a weakened state, I was unable to command them with my mind and in the absence of proper instruction my lab soon resembled something akin to a jungle run amok.

Helpless to stop it, I lay sprawled upon the floor, shivering in agony whilst slipping in and out of consciousness. All the while, the vines continued to develop, oblivious to the fact that in their vain search for sunlight, I was slowly dying from their rapid consumption of my energy. By then, I ceased to care.

Shego had gone, possibly due to the fact that she didn't have the patience to deal with my condition. I don't blame her for leaving. Any sane person would've done the same. Why else would she have stayed? There was nothing she could do for me and after receiving a medal and a full pardon from the United Nations, I made the wise choice to retire from my wicked lifestyle. What would an uncaring mercenary for hire want with a villainous failure such as me?

I couldn't bear the pain any longer and allowed the plants to consume me uninhibited.

For all intents and purposes, I was fully prepared to die. I… I wanted to die and this was as reasonable of an excuse as any.

Starved, Dehydrated, and literally rooted to where I laid, I waited for death to claim me when out of the blue I heard the faintest sound.

At first I assumed that I was imagining things. Then, it came again, louder than before and by then the sound of my name being called was unmistakable even to one as delusional as I.

I attempted to raise my head and wasn't surprised to find that I couldn't. Nevertheless, it stoked my curiosity. Slowly and with remarkable difficulty, I opened my eyes to reveal the world as an indiscernible blur of color save for one distinctively acid green smear...

My vision cleared, revealing none other than that of the elusive Shego. How she managed to dodge the tangle of vines without causing me harm amazes me to this day and at the time, I was incapable of processing complex thought aside from staring at her in mute shock.

I thought she'd left me there to rot, yet there she was, her face drawn in obvious concern. She drew tentatively closer, doing her best not to touch anything attached to my body, which I gather to be quite a feat for even one as lithe and agile as her self.

She crouched carefully in front of me and placed her fingertips lightly upon my face.

I flinched at the contact, pain like lighting radiating from the veined roots buried just beneath the superficial layer of my skin. She whispered an apology then gently cradled my stubbled chin, carefully maneuvering my face a little higher so that I could see her better.

Immediately my eyes were drawn to the unmistakable glimmer of tears lining her face. My jaw slackened and I attempted to speak but my tongue felt swollen and dry like cotton. I coughed, hissing my displeasure as the involuntary vibrations within my chest stirred the masses of acutely sensitive vines.

I started to speak, "She...HK-KAFF!" and was silenced with a finger over my lips. 'You came back,' I thought, wishing that she could hear me.

"Shhhh, save your strength, here," she replied softly, producing a tray of several tall mugs she'd brought with her.

When the coughing fit ebbed she hurriedly pressed the edge of a cup to my lips and ordered me to drink.

Like a man possessed, I obeyed, simply because the autonomic desire to quench my raging thirst was too strong and detrimental to my health to resist. I couldn't have denied it even if I wanted to and in faith renewed the desire to live surged within me once again.

I never thought that chicken broth and water of all things could taste as delicious to me as it did then. Shego was remarkably patient, taking her time to nourish me, reminding me that if I drank too quickly I'd make myself ill. To reassure me that I wouldn't, she intentionally held back to allow my stomach to settle before permitting me to hungrily reclaim the edge of the mug.

She waited till I'd had my fill then carefully broached the subject on how I could be freed but by then I was barely coherent, too full and exhausted to do much else than sleep. She must've known what it'd take to relieve me from my prison because the next time I woke, I was laying in a bed, oddly free of pain and the constraints of my vines.

'How long had I slept?' I wondered.

Within my hazy field of vision I identified the unmistakable line of an I.V. drip beginning at the crook of my right arm and traced its path to the bag of morphine suspended above me from a stainless steel hook.

It dawned on me that I had been sedated. Wouldn't I have felt the sting of the needle? Considering my dilemma there was little doubt to the extent of my fatigue and what little I could recollect were brief and intermittent snippets of clarity which were abruptly quashed by waves of drug induced comatosis.

Much to my embarrassment, I soon discovered that I had also been bathed and dressed into a clean pair of loose fitting boxer shorts. I momentarily shut my eyes to shun the perverse images conjured by my mind. Instead, I chose to refocus my attention to making a self diagnosis.

While unconscious the ensnaring vines had been cut, cauterized, or naturally sloughed from my body in the process of removing me from the lab. I deducted that at one point I'd bled in certain areas where the vines were still securely rooted to my body due to a number of bandages wrapped around various parts of my anatomy.

Astoundingly, upon closer inspection, the flesh beneath the bandages had regenerated and in place of the old vines, newer fledging vines had already begun to emerge. Furthermore, the exuberance with which they grew seemed to increase in my current state of awareness.

"So you're up," a familiar voice replied.

My train of thought abruptly derailed as I inadvertently forgot to breathe at the sight of her standing at the doorway opposite of the bed. Heat rushed to my face, turning the powder blue of my skin a lovely shade of violet.

"Glad to see you too," she commented wryly. "How you feelin'?"

I gaped at her in mute horror as torrid images of her seeing my nakedness returned with unabashed fervor.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teased.

I tried to work my mouth but to no avail.

Shego threw her arms up in exasperation, "Oh, come ON now! You're starting to resemble a fish out of water! You should be thanking me! Hell, I even shaved that horrendous beard you were sporting."

"Th-Thank you," I managed at last.

"HE SPEAKS!" she declared in mock surprise. "…and you're welcome," she added gently.

I tentatively raised my left arm to rub idly at my chin, confirming the absence of my recent week's growth of beard.

"You should consider getting a hair removal treatment for that. Facial hair doesn't suit you at all."

I frowned at the web of tiny roots forming beneath the surface of my forearm. "Unduly, noted. I'll think about it when I'm not so concerned about turning into a tree. …and again, thank you for the morphine. I doubt I'd still be conscious otherwise."

"You may not be awake for long," she said doubtfully. "It isn't just the morphine that I've pumped into you… I've been keeping you sedated for a reason because I didn't want you to O.D. on the stuff. You're so pumped full of it already that I'm genuinely surprised you're even awake now. You've got enough tranquilizer in you to knock out an elephant."

Now there was something I hadn't heard before. My metabolic rate and immunity levels had also increased. …Intriguing.

"Oh?"

"Last I tried to wean you off the painkiller you woke up screaming like you were being burned alive. It was pretty chilling." She shivered to enunciate her meaning.

"…That bad, huh?"

She nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm afraid I don't recall," I muttered tiredly. "Everything's been a blur."

"I'd imagine so after what you've been through," she said.

I held my breath momentarily, my thoughts returning to my state of cleanliness. "You…" I began to say.

"Mm?" She leaned heavily against the door frame and folded her arms.

I realized she hadn't entered the room, acting as though I were contagious. "You bathed me?"

It was Shego's turn to blush. "Wh-What." She began to sputter then masked her embarrassment by assuming a defensive stance. "SO WHAT IF I DID?"

I bit back a smile, the threat of impending laughter making my throat ache. Stars and garters, it felt like ages since I'd had a good laugh.

Leveling me with a scathing glare, her hands ignited with deadly green energy. "You stupid bastard, you stank to high heaven! SOMEBODY HAD TO!"

"My apologies," I chuckled, my voice rising an octave. "The look on your face… IT'S..."

She stomped toward the bed, looming dangerously over me. "You think this is all a fucking joke," she spat. "I ought to leave your ass again! I-"

I froze as the impact of her words struck me like a smack on the face. Her words stung as they were meant to and though I understand she'd said it out of anger I couldn't help but think she really would. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually...

Realizing what she'd said and instantly regretting it, she took a step back. "I-I didn't mean to-," she stammered.

I took a sharp breath and gazed at her sternly, my brow drawn into a scowl. That week I'd spent without her was the longest and most agonizing of my life. It was all I could do to restrain the onslaught of negative thoughts from rending me apart altogether. ….And yet, there she was, threatening ME that she'd leave again after all she'd done to care for me. I couldn't accept that. I wouldn't and I wasn't about to give her that chance. Not again. Not ever!

With an unexpected surge of energy, I bolted upright and seized her glowing wrists firmly in my hands. Despite the fact that my head spun and I felt terribly nauseous, I held fast.

She fought me for a moment but quickly ran out of steam when she noticed that my palms were well on their way to developing second degree burns.

"You -hanf- Nngh, Y-You don't Nn-mean that," I said slowly, panting against the pain. "You don't mean that," I repeated before slumping half off the bed like a limp sack of potatoes.

With a gasp she lurched forward and caught me under the arms and held me in a firm embrace.

For a few seconds neither of us did nor said anything. We simply breathed, and with my head against her chest and her scent filling my nose, I listened to her heart drumming against my ear. It was a sound which I'd longed to hear. It chased away all of my doubts and fears like a dream. God, if only I had the nerve to tell her how I truly felt.

I swallowed the lump of sorrow aching in my gullet. 'No,' I thought. 'Now is not the time for weakness! She'll never respect you as a man if you continue wallowing in self pity.'

Her breasts heaved as she sighed and I forced myself to lift my head once the dizziness abated. If I lingered much longer she'd assume that I was being a pervert. Perhaps I was though I was far too weary to make a joke of it.

"Are you alright?"

I closed my eyes and nodded quietly, unable to meet her gaze. The monitor at my bedside betrayed me, beeping erratically in tempo with my heart beat. I resisted the compulsion to wipe the sudden rash of nervous sweat prickling the nape of my neck.

"Shego," I said hoarsely.

She eased me back against the pillows. "I have to take care of your hands I -" She paused awkwardly, a distinctive blush returning to her cheeks. "You should've known better than to grab me like that or shit like this happens!"

"I wannn't'talk," I insisted, the drugs finally taking effect and making my speech slur drunkenly.

"We'll talk when you've had more rest," she countered.

"Duzzn'hurt.…"

She arched a brow, "You sure about that?"

I offered her a lazy smile to prove that it didn't and she smiled shyly in return.

"You're too out of it to care much anyway, right?" She said as she carefully smoothed back the wild locks of my hair.

The gesture seemed oddly poignant considering that she'd been so furious with me a moment ago. Then again, that was Shego for you. She was as unpredictable as a mid-summer's rain storm.

"Shhhhego, pleez…don'have mush'more time…"

She raised her head from inspecting my hands and regarded me irritably, "Well, spit it out then."

Gazing at her earnestly, I overturned my blistered hands and curled my fingers into the soft curve of her palms. "Marry me."

Her look to me was incredulous, "What?"

Just before consciousness slipped away, I opened my mouth to respond, wanting desperately to tell her that I loved her but found that I couldn't. If only I'd had a moment longer… Alas, I knew there was nothing I could do and resigned myself to a dark and dreamless slumber.


	2. Beautiful When She's Angry

**Written By:** Myself

**Editor/Muse/Love of my life:** Arcanix Soulstar (_To whom I owe many thanks for practicing such incredible patience and devotion. Without him I would not have had the courage to accomplish any of this on my own!)_

**Author's Note:** _For those of you who are fans of the Freakazoid show will recognize a certain character. His role in this story is pivotal in tying both the Freakazoid and Kim Possible series together into my crossover fic "Integration", which takes place 9 years (give or take a few months) after the beginning of "Drakken's Memoir". The memoir serves a purpose to not only tell the tale from Drakken's perspective but as a means of deepening the plot._

**Chapter 2**

"Beautiful When She's Angry"

I never imagined the day when I'd admit my feelings for her or that they'd gone far beyond a normal professional relationship. Normally the drugs were the easiest thing to blame for my outward display, but several days spent on the brink of death seemed like a more logical explanation. It's funny how confronting one's own mortality can profoundly change a man's outlook on life…

Despite my sudden 'awakening', that didn't mean anything else had changed except for my whole "save the world from an alien invasion". (I'll spare that story for another entry).

If only I'd taken the time to prepare myself… But when did I ever have the time? The proposal was more of an impulse. Driven by years of unrequited love rushing out of me like a tidal wave, the words spilled past my lips faster than my doubts had time to squelch them. I wanted her to stay with me because I couldn't bear the thought of waking up to find her gone again.

The blow of her rejection was like a kick to the groin and though the look on her face might've meant any number of things, my heart began to break. I should have known it would happen. After all, she's the sort who wouldn't dare give any man the time of day other than when it served her own benefit. It was beneath her to accept such random proposals, _especially_ from the likes of me. Heavens, the only reason I gather she put up with me for so long was because I paid her. Needless to say, I never had time to fully gauge her response.

Once I regained consciousness, I realized the room had gone dark and I was also alone. I raised my head stiffly from the pillow to look around me but Shego was nowhere to be found. After a moment or two, I returned to my former position and faced a wall of black drapes concealing what appeared to be a large doorway. '_How long has it been this time_?' I wondered, rubbing the sleep from eyes. I stopped and held my hands away from my face, recalling the faint memory of my scuffle with Shego. I flexed my fingers, noting that there wasn't a single blister or blemish to be seen. Had I dreamt it or had I been under so long that they had already healed?

I rolled onto my back, no longer comfortable on my right side and lay staring up at the canting wood-studded ceiling. I strained to listen for the usual croak and trill of nocturnal fauna but heard nothing. The silence would have been deafening if not for the annoying staccato of the heart monitor. At the corner of my vision I observed that the morphine drip appeared to have run dry, which explained my state of renewed awareness.

'_What time is it_?' I inspected the bed side table for a clue but there was nothing there but a variety of medical monitoring devices, none of which gave any allusion as to the time of day. Frustrated, I scanned the pale walls and couldn't even find a blasted wall clock! What is it with ordinary people and their infuriating ignorance for proper timekeeping? I for one can't stand not having some sort of timepiece within sight at all times!

I rose reluctantly from the sheets only to have my bladder give a sharp warning spasm. Damn, how **long** had it been? I hoped to have the strength to drag my sorry carcass out of bed to find the loo.

"Sh-Shego?" I croaked, hoping that she was within ear shot. No such luck.

Somehow I managed to get out of bed and remove the IV but in my hurry I forgot about the heart monitor. Halfway across the room the clamp slipped off my finger, shattering the silence with an ear splitting flat line alarm. I ignored it and shuffled slowly across the hardwood floor to my door, grasping the frame to steady myself.

A light from another room flared unexpectedly and a man in rumpled blue plaid flannel pajamas and a dark robe stumbled into the hall. "Ach! Mein gott!" he exclaimed, nearly colliding with me in his rush.

I stared at him quietly, my drug hazed mind failing to provide any clues to his identity. He had the look of a scientist well in his sixties, partially bald on top with an untamable crown of gray hair. He was thin, not too tall, nearly as tall as my own height of 5'10". A smile tugged at my mouth; His goatee reminded me of Dr. Thaddeus' from the Venture Brothers cartoon.

He placed a hand upon my shoulder, breaking my concentration. "Drakken?" he said in a distinctly German accent, "Are you alright?"

I shrank away from his touch, suddenly angry, "Who the hell are you?"

"I am Professor Roland Heiney, your doctor," he said and offered his hand in greeting.

I scowled, not bothering to reciprocate, "I don't have a doctor."

"Vell, the evidence of my having treated you for ze past three veeks vould decidedly contradict your claim."

"Right…" My eyes narrowed, curious as to the reason for my henchwoman's absence. "Where's Shego?"

"She's sleeping, of course."

"Oh?" I faltered a bit, "W-What time is it?"

"Nearly dawn. Vhy? Iz zere somesing ze matter vit you? I heard ze heart monitor alarm and it voke me." He leaned close to inspect my arm, squinting over the spectacles perched upon his bird-like nose, "Vhy haf you removed your I.V.? " He traced his fingers over the hollow of my arm, marveling at the thick cord of sensitive roots fanned beneath my skin. "It's healed," he murmured.

I shrugged him off, my patience already worn. "Will you **stop** touching me? I'm trying to find a bathroom for God's sake and I can't go anywhere with that blasted thing attached to me! Besides, it ran dry so I saw no point in keeping it on!"

The professor's thick brows shot up in surprise. "OH! I certainly understand ze emergency." He motioned with a thumb over his shoulder, "It's just down ze hall, second door to your left. Just… put the seat down ven you are done. I learned zat ze very scary vay." He leaned in closely, a haunted look on his face. "Very, _very_ scary."

In the time it took me to complete my objective, the keening wail of the heart monitor had ceased and I found the professor waiting for me expectantly.

"So, what kind of name is 'Heiney' anyway?"

"Vat sort of name iz Drew Theodore P. Lipsky?" he countered.

"…Touché."

"What may I call you zen?" he asked.

"Drakken, Dee, or Doctor but **never** Drew - only mother calls me that. …And you?"

"Professor, Roland, it doesn't matter. There's no need for formalities." He removed his glasses, cleaning them on the hem of his night shirt before returning them to their perch. "It seems fate did not bestow us vit the best of given names… Such iz ze privilege of our Jewish heritage, ja?"

I regarded him incredulously, "By the sounds of your accent, I would've thought you to be German or Austrian."

"That's not far from ze truth. I vas born in Borków, Poland unt lived zere till ze var broke out; I did a lot of traveling in zose days… I later lived vit relatives in Austria till I came of age. I currently own a specialized research facility in Svitzerland." He paused, stifling a yawn, "Perhaps ve should spare such a serious discussion for later? It iz early unt I'm in great need of kaffee. Care for some?"

"YES," I said quickly, eager to change the subject.

The Professor started to pat my arm but quickly relinquished his hand, remembering my aversion to being touched. "Don't look so harried, young man, you haven't upset me. In fact, I find your curiosity refreshing. I am only just half awake unt cannot function vitout ein tasse kaffe to start my day… I'll be happy to share my life story vit you later." He strode down the hall with me close at his heels and flicked on a light switch I hadn't seen as he entered an expansive room.

"SHIT!" My arms flew up to cover my eyes, blinded by the flood of fluorescent light. "Warn me before you do that!"

"Ach, my apologies, Doctor… I forgot that it's been a vhile since your retinas haf been exposed to full light."

"No kidding!"

"Just take a moment to acclimate. In the mean time I'll get ze kaffee started."

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally managed to open my eyes and was immediately taken by the spaciousness of the kitchen sharing an even bigger dining area. "Is this your place," I wondered aloud.

"Nein, this beach house belongs to your partner."

"Beach house? We're at the ocean?"

"Ja, Santa Barbara, California, to be exact. You vere unconscious ven ve brought you here so I'm not surprised you don't remember any of it. "

My curiosity piqued, I decided to explore my surroundings. The living room was vast, complete with a fire place, plush leather furniture, a satellite flat screen television and a floor-to-ceiling wall of glass. I ventured further, out through a double French door to a lanai surrounded by glass windbreaks. From there, I could gaze upon the panorama of the ocean turning lighter as the sun rose behind me from the East, like a dark, shifting blanket. I must've stood there a long time because when I finally blinked into awareness I knew I was no longer alone.

Not far from my side, Shego stood cradling a large, steaming coffee mug in both hands as though it were a priceless artifact. She took a cursory sip, peering at me over the edge of her cup. I hadn't heard her get up.

I pressed my forehead to the glass, the rich aroma of her coffee making my stomach growl, "I didn't know you had a place like this…"

"That's because I never told you."

"How come?"

"That's none of your business."

"Seriously, Shego. Why the attitude? I'm just trying to make conversation about your lovely home."

"Coffee first. Talk later," she said shortly, taking another sip.

"Fine," I spat and approached the sliding glass door. "If I'd known you'd be so snippy with me I would never have talked to you at all." I turned away in as best an approximation of stomping as a recently-revived invalid could muster. After about twenty paces across the soft sand, however, my formerly bedridden state caught up with me and I had to pause to catch my breath. I wheezed faintly, hunched over and grasping my knees.

The impromptu pause allowed me to realize that I could hear the approach of light footsteps gliding over the sand behind me. It figures that she would be more comfortable walking on the sand; it was her house, after all.

"Dee, wait," she called.

"Leave me alone!"

"Goddamnit Dee, just wait a minute!"

"You know," I began, breathless with fatigue. "I had a feeling someone else was treating me. No offence but based on our history together, I never took you for one who is well-practiced in the field of medicine."

She came to my side and ever so lightly grasped my hand. "None taken…"

I curled my fingers into her palm, righting my posture and faced her. "Oh?"

She looked up at me, her jade green eyes vibrant in the predawn. "When you first woke I didn't want you to go into a panic about a stranger knowing our location, let alone anything about your weird plant power. That's why I brought you here, instead of treating you at your lab."

"Mmm." I fingered a dark strand of hair that blew across her face, not really listening.

"…Considering how zonked out you've been, I figured, the less you knew, the better. I just didn't think you'd be up so soon." She blushed, suddenly noticing her proximity to me and took an awkward step back.

"Why did you come back for me?" I asked huskily, "I assumed you'd left for good."

She raised her head, her expression a mask of defiance. "I never said I quit. I came back when I _planned_ to come back. I just never expected to find that you'd gone off the deep end like that!"

"…The deep end?" I queried, the moment destroyed. "What _exactly_ are you insinuating?"

"At first I thought you were into that 'evil plants take over the world' scheme again," she scoffed, arms folded, "which was a total joke like most of your harebrained ideas."

I crossed my arms and regarded her caustically, "If I exist only to amuse you then perhaps you _should_ leave. I don't need you making fun of everything I do and I'll have you know that my hypo pollinator mutagen was NOT a bad idea! I saved the fucking world with it for crying out loud!"

Her lip curled into a sneer. "Can the melodrama, Dr. D. I'm not making fun of the actual hypo-flower-power-serum-thing. It was the original plan for the stuff that stunk."

I opened my mouth to correct her terminology but the malicious glare she shot me silenced my retort.

"Now stop interrupting," she snapped, "…and let me finish!"

Grumbling irritably, I waited for her to continue, albeit impatiently.

"The lair was completely taken over with vines and flowers just like what happened at the Alpine lair before the invasion. It was hard finding you in that jungle but then all the sudden, there you were…" She faltered. "I thought you were dead."

"You haven't answered the question! **WHY** did you leave?"

"You irritate the shit out of me, like NOW!" she bellowed, "…and after that whole snafu at the U.N. and all the publicity and paparazzi, not to mention being threatened by Global Justice!" she flung up her arms to emphasize her tirade, "I just needed time away from it all, **especially** from your never-ending world domination drama!"

By some miracle I managed to control my temper and hissed through clenched teeth, "So you think my asking you to marry me was just an elaborate ruse to keep you in my services?"

All the color had drained from her face, sickly pale in contrast to the luscious mane of her raven hair. She stared, still as a statue, never once uttering a sound.

'…_Serves her right for being so presumptuous_.' I thought ruefully and turned away to calm my nerves though I continued to feel the tingle of her unblinking gaze on my back.

Minutes felt like hours in the silence that grew between us and the longer it lasted, the more it whittled away my courage. Yet by some miracle, I found my voice at last, "I-I realize that I hardly meet your standards but my offer stands."

She didn't answer, doing little to assuage my inner tempest of doubt. All the same I waited, hoping with every fiber of my being that my fears meant nothing, that all would be right in the end. I hung my head. I was well aware that I was getting myself into trouble by forcing her to open her heart, but the truth of the matter was that neither of us was getting any younger. I couldn't wait forever. I was desperate to know where we stood in our relationship and whether this was the point where we'd walk our separate ways. It wasn't her responsibility to take care of me – Her invaluable years of service and the countless times she'd saved my life hardly meant I was owed anything, especially when most of it was my fault to begin with.

I stared at my feet, recalling the faint memory of when she'd found me several weeks ago and how she'd cradled my face delicately in her hands. It wasn't that particular reason that compelled me to remember… It had been the tears, shining lucent on the mint pallor of her face. Except for that incident with the Moodulator a year before, I'd never seen her cry so openly, especially not for my sake. She looked vulnerable, even frightened. It stole my breath away, to see her so uncommonly unguarded. I meant to say something but the moment seemed hardly conducive for words. I hugged myself to embrace that moment, praying I'd never forget it if that was all I'd have left of her when whatever we were had ended.

It suddenly occurred to me that I should be worried when my fingertips touched the course length of a leafy vine dangling from my shoulder. It shuddered and came alive, tugging me back into reality and swaying in the tepid breeze. I shut my eyes, stifling the chatter of my teeth as the first cold wave of shivers wracked my body. The morphine had worn off long ago and I knew that meant the pain would soon return in full keel. Worse yet, the tremors wracking my frame were a sure sign that I was going into opiate withdrawal.

"DRAKKEN!"

I jolted as if stricken, "Huh?"

Shego planted her hands upon her hips and huffed as though nothing had happened at all. "I was talking to you!"

I looked abashed and shook my head warily. "It seems my mind was elsewhere…"

"Apparently," she replied snappishly.

My body shuddered, the odd tingling in my neck giving way to the tickle of vigorous plant growth as drug-muted nerves awoke unabashed. I clenched my jaw to muffle an anguished cry when the first lance of pain flared at the small of my back, coiling low in my belly before trailing fire through my ribcage.

"Drakken…" her voice sounded distant through the roaring in my ears.

I cut her off with a dismissive wave of my hand. "Y-You don't have to answer," I stammered, sweating despite the morning chill. I drew a calm and shaky breath, the honey sweet scent of budding flowers permeating the air. '_Great, now I'm beginning to bloom as well._' As if on cue, a thick neck vine littered with pink blossoms and spaded leaves, swung into my view soon followed by the embarrassing flair of yellow petals crowning my head.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, straining not to laugh at the ridiculousness of my appearance.

"Only just," I moaned before pitching into the sand and laying there, panting heavily. It was as though my body had been doused in napalm, an addition to the biting grit of the sand like salt on an open wound. I dug at myself, fingers curled into claws as fine roots, encouraged by the sunlight, bubbled feverishly beneath my flesh and throughout my body.

"Dee…" She bent to grasp my shoulder to turn me over but recoiled as if burned when I gave a hideous scream.

Alerted by the commotion, I heard the professor emerge from the house, hailing to Shego.

"Roland…," she began then seemed to decide against waiting for him and knelt at my side.

The Professor dashed across the sand, the tail of his robe billowing in the stiff pacific breeze. "Don't touch him! Ze vines are too sensitive!" he cried.

I watched him reach into the pocket of his pajama pants, producing a hypodermic syringe he must've prepared beforehand. He uncapped the needle and held it up to inspect the dosage in the light, tapping the vial then expelling a small amount of fluid in a thin translucent stream.

My eyes widened. "N-No!" I shouted, vines thrashing like whips in my panic. "NO MORE -_Gnh_- _HNGh_-AHH!"

"Turn him over," the professor instructed. "I need to inject him in ze buttocks vhere he hazn't been contaminated vit dirt."

Shego forced me onto my stomach and reached to lower the hem of my boxers. "No more morphine," I repeated, bordering on hysterics. "NO MORE!" A massive vine bubbled from the center of my back and twined around her midsection, lifting her off of me and suspending her several feet in the air.

She kicked her legs, hands flaring with lethal energy and gripped the branch-like appendage with super human strength. "PUT ME DOWN OR SO HELP ME YOU'LL WISH YOU **WERE** ON MORPHINE WHEN I GET THROUGH WITH YOU!"

Feeling vindicated yet unable to restrain her any longer, I thrust her into the ocean without so much as an apology then curled into a fetal position and whimpered like a wounded animal.

Shego emerged from the waves dripping and positively radiant with fury, "I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

"Please, Miss Go," the professor begged. "Do calm down! He vas only trying to defend himself! I must explain zat ve do not intend to harm him!" He held out his arms in an attempt to shield me from her rage, "Doctor Dee, I svere it izn't morphine. Zis is my own unique concoction to stave ze pain, reacting similarly to a sedative because it relaxes ze body. I had to alter it to a degree due to your unique physiology but I assure you it iz safe!"

Shego trudged to shore and stepped around him, wielding a glowing fist, "HE WON'T BE SAFE WHEN** I** GET THROUGH WITH HIM!"

"Use it if you insist," I wavered, "but if anything should go wrong there will be consequences."

The professor nodded, getting in the way when she made a lunge for me. "Miss Go, I urge you to mind your temper **just** zis once."

"SHUT UP ROLAND!"

My muscles bulged, rippling with the alien life that steadily began to overtake me like before. "L-liiiisten to him…." I ground out. "I've agreed to-HNgh!" A spasm ripped through me, "th-the injection. Ah-AFFFterward, you may DO-Ghngh- what you want with me…I already feel like SHHIT so I doubt there's much else short of **death** that could top it."

"Wanna bet?" she snarled.

With one hand, Roland started to remove his robe, "It isn't much but it'll dry you."

Her focus on him was immediate and piercing, "NO!"

He flinched at the force of her shout then without further argument or remorse she spun in a spray of sea water and stomped off to the house.

The professor knelt beside me, syringe still in hand and gave me a sidelong look. "I'm starting to remember vhy I never married."

My smile was faint, "Ahhh, but she's beautiful when she's angry." The familiar darkness of drugged unconsciousness welled up around me then, a welcome respite from my agony and suffering – both physical and otherwise.

To Be Continued…


End file.
